When I was growing up there was a cartoon called "Roadrunner". Roadrunner was always being chased by Wile E Coyote, who never caught him (There's a blog in that, I'm sure: about chasing what we cannot catch. Another time, perhaps).
The song for "Roadrunner" had this one line: "Running down the road is his idea of having fun..."
I thought about that this week, after I had gone for a 20 minute 'run' (I'm being generous to myself: but stagger sounds so... old). As I stood at the door, panting and puffing, I savoured each breath. Somehow, my lungs could almost taste the air as I drew it in, and I could feel every breath as I took it.
It was simple. It was exhilarating. It was magic. It had been a while since I last felt so 'alive'.
Simple, innocent pleasures. God created so many of them that we can do and still be in His will. Yet each day, the world crowds onto us more and more overwhelming sensations: sensations that drown out the way we are meant to feel and connect with creation.
Why not find one of those innocent pleasures, and give yourself over to it for a time today. As for me, I'm looking forward to running again tomorrow.
To quote Roadrunner: "Beep, beep".
Showing posts with label experience. Show all posts
Showing posts with label experience. Show all posts
Thursday, 8 August 2013
Tuesday, 7 May 2013
... Of Failed Apps, and other missed opportunities
An open letter to a Service Company (with thanks to +Seth Godin for his insightful comments on creative thinking)
"Dear CEO of a major service company I deal with.
Your company sent me an excited email yesterday.Did I want to keep track of my usage of your service, so that I can keep on top of the costs of that service? If so, then I could download your brand new 'App' (for the uninitiated, that is short for 'Application for a mobile internet-connected device, like a smart-phone'. For those who don't understand that sentence, this entire post may effectively be in Swahili)
Always one to want to keep a lid on costs, I signed up for the service and downloaded this free app.
Then I opened the app on my phone. Here is the message I received, right off the bat:
"A ... server request has failed, our App development team will look into the issue. Please try again at a later time."
No, dear CEO of the service company, I wont be trying again at a later time. I have tried four times for three days now. You told me this is an excellent product that would enhance my appreciation of your service. You have done the worst thing imaginable in service terms: told me I will benefit from something you have made just for me - something I didn't know before-hand that I wanted, but now do - only to let me down at the very first hurdle.
Dear company: never create a market niche that you immediately and completely fail to fill. It makes me feel disappointed, and you look very foolish. Instead, test your product, at least a bit. I don't mind if there are some teething issues: I get that new ideas can sometimes take time to perfect. But if the entire thing is a 'fail' from the beginning, that, dear sir, is a fail of epic proportions."
"Dear CEO of a major service company I deal with.
Your company sent me an excited email yesterday.Did I want to keep track of my usage of your service, so that I can keep on top of the costs of that service? If so, then I could download your brand new 'App' (for the uninitiated, that is short for 'Application for a mobile internet-connected device, like a smart-phone'. For those who don't understand that sentence, this entire post may effectively be in Swahili)
Always one to want to keep a lid on costs, I signed up for the service and downloaded this free app.
Then I opened the app on my phone. Here is the message I received, right off the bat:
"A ... server request has failed, our App development team will look into the issue. Please try again at a later time."
No, dear CEO of the service company, I wont be trying again at a later time. I have tried four times for three days now. You told me this is an excellent product that would enhance my appreciation of your service. You have done the worst thing imaginable in service terms: told me I will benefit from something you have made just for me - something I didn't know before-hand that I wanted, but now do - only to let me down at the very first hurdle.
Dear company: never create a market niche that you immediately and completely fail to fill. It makes me feel disappointed, and you look very foolish. Instead, test your product, at least a bit. I don't mind if there are some teething issues: I get that new ideas can sometimes take time to perfect. But if the entire thing is a 'fail' from the beginning, that, dear sir, is a fail of epic proportions."
Sunday, 24 March 2013
...Of Learning Greek
I was once on a train from Christchurch to Auckland, when a man in a seat near me noticed I was reading the Gospel of John.
Smiling, we came over to sit next to me. I suppose my alarm bells should have been ringing: Who chooses to sit next to a person reading the bible, except someone with an axe of some sort to grind. A frown normally means "I need to tell you why that book is junk, and why you Christians are ruining the world".
(Aside 1: I don't mind these conversations: we Christians have done our fair share of mucking things up. It's probably the only point on which +Richard Dawkins and I agree. So people are entitled to their best shot, and to have a Christian do the listening for a change.)
But a smile: that so often means: I have superior revelation than you, and you have the privilege of hearing it from me.
(Aside 2: this is one of the approaches that so often produces people with the frown in 'Aside 1'.)
So I should have pretended I was asleep, or busy, or had eaten too many baked beans; or something like that.
(Aside 3: some of the tactics non-Christians have used to avoid being talked at by Christians on public transport: it doesn't work for them, and never has for me either.)
But I didn't. I smiled back (Mr T. would have said "I pity the fool"), and was soon subject to a treatise on why the translation of the bible I was reading was flawed. The Greek was quite different, said my smiling assassin. Jesus isn't God: he's a created being with lots of power, but he isn't God.
My feeble response that surely 2,000 years of scholars couldn't be wrong was brushed away with the king hit: "But how do you know? Have you studied Greek?" To which I had to concede that no, I had not. It was a crushing blow. I was relying on others. I was totally defeated.
(Aside 4: he was too. I discovered that he knew no more Greek than me. What greater nonsense can there be than two ignorant people arguing over an issue with no true knowledge of any of the facts?)
And as he sauntered away, happy in the knowledge that he had won the argument, I resolved that day to learn Greek. Never again would such humiliation happen. Next time I would be ready.
And so I received a great gift from that fellow: not the gift of his wisdom (see aside 4), but something far better. It is a lazy way to live to only rely on second-hand knowledge or experience. Abundant life is lived only as we experience it ourselves. Learn Greek; climb a mountain; plant a tree; ab-sail: but get out and experience life for yourself.
Smiling, we came over to sit next to me. I suppose my alarm bells should have been ringing: Who chooses to sit next to a person reading the bible, except someone with an axe of some sort to grind. A frown normally means "I need to tell you why that book is junk, and why you Christians are ruining the world".
(Aside 1: I don't mind these conversations: we Christians have done our fair share of mucking things up. It's probably the only point on which +Richard Dawkins and I agree. So people are entitled to their best shot, and to have a Christian do the listening for a change.)
But a smile: that so often means: I have superior revelation than you, and you have the privilege of hearing it from me.
(Aside 2: this is one of the approaches that so often produces people with the frown in 'Aside 1'.)
So I should have pretended I was asleep, or busy, or had eaten too many baked beans; or something like that.
(Aside 3: some of the tactics non-Christians have used to avoid being talked at by Christians on public transport: it doesn't work for them, and never has for me either.)
But I didn't. I smiled back (Mr T. would have said "I pity the fool"), and was soon subject to a treatise on why the translation of the bible I was reading was flawed. The Greek was quite different, said my smiling assassin. Jesus isn't God: he's a created being with lots of power, but he isn't God.
My feeble response that surely 2,000 years of scholars couldn't be wrong was brushed away with the king hit: "But how do you know? Have you studied Greek?" To which I had to concede that no, I had not. It was a crushing blow. I was relying on others. I was totally defeated.
(Aside 4: he was too. I discovered that he knew no more Greek than me. What greater nonsense can there be than two ignorant people arguing over an issue with no true knowledge of any of the facts?)
And as he sauntered away, happy in the knowledge that he had won the argument, I resolved that day to learn Greek. Never again would such humiliation happen. Next time I would be ready.
And so I received a great gift from that fellow: not the gift of his wisdom (see aside 4), but something far better. It is a lazy way to live to only rely on second-hand knowledge or experience. Abundant life is lived only as we experience it ourselves. Learn Greek; climb a mountain; plant a tree; ab-sail: but get out and experience life for yourself.
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